The Thing About Bad Pennies
by CrystallicSky
Summary: They always come back. CHACK, WIP
1. Prologue

**The Thing About Bad Pennies**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Language, homosexuality, (eventual) sexual situations, etc.**

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

Jack figured that if there were ever to be one universal constant about him, it was this: no matter what he did, it never turned out the way it was supposed to.

Ever.

For example, that time a couple years back when he'd seriously started feeling the lack of peers in his peculiar circle of 'evil goth teenaged genius.' That wasn't exactly the kind of thing you could just go to a mixer for, so it had seemed totally logical at the time for Jack to build himself a peer—one who shared his style, his intellect, his passion for evil, and most importantly, his goal of taking over the world.

In retrospect, of course… Well.

The less said about the result of _that_ fiasco, the better.

That was hardly an isolated incident, though. Jack was fairly certain he had a chronic case of Murphy's Law, and just about everything he set out to do ended up veering off in some weird, unexpected direction that he had _not_ seen coming. Robo-Jack, his disastrous attempt at going Xiaolin, and even just two weeks ago when he'd tried to test his prototype teleporter and ended up in Egypt instead of England (and yes, the sunburn had only _just_ gone away). The common factor was Jack trying to do something and by whatever circumstance, screwing it up kinda spectacularly.

When he thought about it that way, his current predicament didn't seem so surprising.

In his defense, Jack hadn't even thought spying on the Xiaolin was the kind of endeavor he _could_ screw up, if just because it was so routine for him. He'd been at this Heylin thing for…Jesus, was it really ten years now?

Anyway, you get ten years of practice at something and you tend to get pretty good at it.

Jack was hardly a ninja when it came to stealth, but he was at least confident enough in his skills of sneaking that the thought of creeping around Guan's temple for intel—without the Shroud of Shadows—didn't even make him nervous anymore.

Why would it? Unlike the monks who sometimes got a little more aggressive in shooing him off, Guan didn't see Jack as much of a threat. His version of discipline tended to consist of sternly lecturing him on the dangers of the Heylin and giving him a disturbingly paternal look of disappointment. It was all very 'concerned high school principal,' and to a man who'd gotten a college degree after dropping out of the third grade, it was pitifully ineffective; never warranting more than an eyeroll before Jack flew himself out of there.

So, yeah, snooping around Guan's temple was a cakewalk and inconceivable to screw up, and that was probably why Jack crept in tonight to find the Master Monk apparently performing a ritual to summon Satan.

Okay, maybe not Satan. That would probably require more pentacles and black candles and slaughtered chickens or something, which were thankfully absent here. Still, there _were_ an awful lot of candles and some weird symbols painted on the walls and Guan was chanting in a pretty creepy whisper that sent a shiver up Jack's spine.

…or maybe not a shiver, Jack amended as the feeling didn't stop. It was more of a tingle in the air, the kind of subsonic hum that distinguished Xiaolin magic from the hissing crackle of Heylin.

_Alright, so it's white magic at least,_ Jack decided, edging closer to the door of the room. _That still doesn't explain what the hell he's up to._ He craned his neck to better see past the jamb, hoping he didn't catch Guan's attention.

It turned out that he probably didn't need to worry about being seen, though, not with the intense focus Guan had on the ornamented ritual bowl in front of him. He was putting things in, precisely measuring out powders and liquids like he was the most bizarre chef in the world and this Xiaolin-weirdness-cake had to come out _just_ right—and he had yet to stop that whispery chant he was doing.

Jack listened harder, trying to make it out and he was surprised to realize he understood it.

Well, pieces of it, anyway.

It sounded like Chinese, but in an ancient, almost poetic form that wove together lyrically, rhythmically, and the way Guan was accenting it kind of made Jack's head hurt, but there were definitely words in it he could understand.

Past. Future. Alter, maybe?

And then Jack went cold because _that_ one wasn't Chinese and it was a name.

Chase Young.

Son of a bitch.

Naturally, Jack's first thought was, _Don't these losers learn **anything**?_ because they already did this. Hell, _everyone_ already did this, because Omi's totally brilliant, clearly well-thought-out plan to go back to the past and change Chase Young's future had changed _all_ their futures.

Asking around as slyly as possible, it had turned out that aside from Omi and possibly Chase himself, Jack was the only one who remembered his alternate lives but those memories were seriously not pleasant.

Living on a farm and being _full time good_ was bad enough in its own way, but somehow, the other one was so much worse: where he'd won the world and beaten everyone, but had aged to the point where he'd already been on the verge of losing everything to death by the time Omi showed up to fix his mistake.

There was no way in hell Jack was going through that bullshit again, which meant…

Crap. Jack was gonna have to sabotage this, wasn't he?

His eyes roved over the room again, hoping to catch a glimpse of somebody else—Master Fung or Dojo, who might try to talk Guan out of this, or the dragons, who might instinctively react to this weird ritual thing and try to stop it.

_Chase_ would be especially great right now, though it looked like the high and mighty bastard would rather force Jack to be responsible for his problems because he was nowhere in evidence.

An annoying voice in the back of his head derisively called _altruism!_ at this 'responsibility,' citing the (embarrassingly) massive torch he still carried for Chase, in spite of eight years of the warlord's 'Ice Queen' routine in return.

Jack forcefully reminded himself that _his_ future was on the line too, and if he did anything now, it would be as much for himself as it would be for Chase.

Although…if Jack was being totally honest with himself, and maybe he could afford that for a second or two, he really didn't think he _was_ personally okay with the idea of Chase being manipulated against his own innate leanings. It felt a lot like coercion, which was…creepy coming from a Xiaolin monk like Guan.

But when it came down to it, none of that was the issue. The issue was that back in the day, Chase Young had decided he wanted to be Heylin and that decision put a whole lot of other important stuff on course to happen…and now, Guan was trying to screw with it.

Jack frowned, doing one last visual sweep of the room and no, nobody else was showing up which kind of sucked because Jack was not a fan of responsibility. However, he _really_ wasn't a fan of change when it came to his freaking timeline and if nobody else was going to step up to the plate, he didn't have much choice in the matter.

Guan's creepy spell was about to get Jacked.

Of course, Jack's Universal Constant was still in effect so where it might've been nice to have a couple seconds to think of exactly _how_ he was going to interfere, Guan wasn't giving him that opportunity.

Just one look at the huge ceremonial knife Guan was now pulling out and Jack _knew_ the ritual was coming to a head.

Purely on instinct, Jack acted, running into the room and barreling into Guan's side.

It was hardly the most effective tactic—Guan was a sturdy guy—but it got him to stagger aside a step or two away from the bowl.

"Spicer!" Guan barked as soon as he realized who had shoved him. "You should not be here!"

"Of course I shouldn't be," Jack grunted, still shoving. "You wouldn't want an audience for screwing up the present!"

Guan refused to be moved any further and his expression went thunderous. "This is something you could never hope to understand," he said. "Chase Young was once my friend. Simply because you—"

"It's not about me!" Jack snapped, and shit, maybe there _was_ some altruism going on here, but he really didn't need to hear where Guan had been going with that one. "Even _I_ figured out that time travel only makes shit worse, but that hasn't clicked for you, yet?!"

"Spicer," and now he just looked resigned, "you won't interfere this time." He raised the knife in his hand, using the other to push at Jack's chest. "I will fix my mistakes."

Guan underestimated the speed of Jack's reflexes. Jack hadn't thought that even _reflexively,_ he'd be stupid enough to try and grab the business end of a dagger.

Unfortunately, they were both wrong.

Jack hissed as the sharp metal bit into the flesh of his palm and jerked his hand back fast enough that he watched his blood arc; to Guan's foot, to the floor.

To the bowl.

Guan seemed to see where the errant droplet had landed, too, and his expression was one of slow-motion horror.

"No," he breathed. "_No._"

Guan reached for Jack so suddenly that all he could do was flinch back and brace himself for manhandling.

…manhandling that never came, apparently, because Guan was being wrenched viciously back by bronze-clad arms around his torso.

Abruptly, Jack felt a kind of _tug_ in his core, the Xiaolin tingling from before starting to branch out from his spine and he went lightheaded with the innate fear of _what's happening?_

He vaguely heard a snarl, "_You_ are the one who won't interfere, Guan," but it was fuzzy in the same way his head was going fuzzy and maybe it wasn't fear doing that, after all…

Jack wobbled on his feet and he looked up, finding that the whole _room_ had started to blur except for a pair of intensely golden eyes that remained in the sharpest clarity.

_Chase…?_

Without any further hesitation, Jack passed out.

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

**A/N: Happy New Year, everyone!**

**As always, I felt compelled to have something posted for the holidays, but I had a problem: I couldn't start work on a specifically holiday-themed story because I was (and am!) currently in the middle of writing a massive story on par with the Diary series in eventual length. There's a lot of work to do and I have such a tendency to procrastinate already, I really couldn't afford to distract myself with something else. But I still really wanted to post something around this time of year because what better way to celebrate winter breaks than with Chack?**

**So here's my solution! A small chunk of my massive WIP story, so I don't have to start a whole new story and you all can see what I've been working on (and that I have, actually, been working on _something_)! XD**

**Anyway, this story in particular is one that I was inspired to write sometime after I wrote _Jelly Bean_ of my Crayola series, where Jack interacts with a tiny Chase. That idea led to another and another and before I knew it, I'd written an outline for Bad Pennies that tops off at about 40 pages-so yeah, this will definitely be a long one!**

**That said, all I ask is that you're patient with me when I (inevitably) take forever to post new chapters and that I hope you enjoy what I've written.**

**With any luck, 2014 will be a Chack-filled new year!**


	2. Chapter 1

**The Thing About Bad Pennies**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Language, homosexuality, (eventual) sexual situations, etc.**

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

When Jack woke up, he was _awake._ Like, the kind of awake it typically took him three hours and as many cups of coffee to achieve, which was pretty weird.

Also weird was the fact that he was face-down in the dirt which, in spite of popular opinion, was really not his default state.

Then he remembered what he'd been doing before he passed out.

Jack sprung upright, head whipping around in a momentary panic because he'd managed to get himself caught up in a _blood-spell_ and now he was decidedly not where he was; and probably not _when_ he was, either.

Finding no immediate dangers to his well-being, and in fact, no one and nothing at all but this rocky hill he was sitting on, Jack sighed deeply and got to his feet.

Aside from that, though, he had no clue what his next move was here.

Jack didn't know anything about his location and he didn't even bother with the GPS in his phone because he didn't know the date either, but he was reasonably sure he would be some-when before satellites. Even worse, he hadn't been the one to cast the spell that must've brought him here, so he wasn't exactly privy to the fine print, information like—what was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to go to do it? Would he get back home when he was finished doing…whatever, or did he have to figure out the Go Home ritual for that?

"Suppose it'd be too much to ask to have some kind of step-by-step guide here, right?" he asked of nobody.

Predictably, nobody answered.

Jack sighed again. "Fucking _magic._"

He spared a moment to look at his hand, still stinging a bit, but not too badly. Where the blade had sliced into his palm, there was a smear of blood caked onto the calloused skin. The wound itself, though, was small and narrow and had long since stopped bleeding.

How long had he been knocked out, anyway?

"…probably stupid to worry about losing time when you're a goddamn time-traveler," Jack muttered to himself and decided to put it out of his mind.

It was probably more important that he do something about his cut because if he was going to die somehow in the distant past, it would be because of dinosaurs or some ancient, fearsome army, _not_ Ye Olde Bacterial Infection.

Luckily, Jack happened to be a goddamn expert at getting himself in and out of these situations, so he always carried some basic first aid stuff in one of the dozens of pockets of his trench coat.

_Badass **and** practical,_ he thought proudly. _'Fashion disaster.' Pfft. Kimiko would eat her words if she were here!_

Jack unzipped his coat and began gingerly flaking off the dried blood when his efforts to remember exactly _which_ pocket he kept the antiseptic in started taking a little longer than he thought it would (and fine, maybe it was better that Kimiko wasn't here for this).

His thinking slowly ground to a halt, though, when he realized he was hearing something besides the distant chirping of birds.

Sniffling. Another _person._

_Well, that's probably a start._

Jack began making his way down the hill, _slowly_ when his attempt at doing it quickly almost landed him on his face in the dirt again.

This was quite possibly the rockiest damn hill he'd ever seen. It would probably be cordoned off as a serious safety hazard if…whatever time this was…had public safety committees and such. A kid could get seriously hurt screwing around on this thing!

…which, as Jack came upon a little boy at the base of a hill, clutching his knee and (by the look of his shaking shoulders) holding back tears, was exactly what had happened.

Jack's first thought was to be impressed. He knew all too well that skinned knees hurt like a _bitch,_ but this kid wasn't even crying. Sniffling a little, sure, but for that to be _all,_ he was a tough little jerk. He was even refraining from that horrific wailing sound unique to toddlers everywhere, the one that made Jack recoil in terror from the thought of ever reproducing, yet he couldn't have been any older than three.

Jack's second thought came a moment later when the weight of his boot dislodged a pebble from the hill and the clatter it made drew the kid's attention right to him, and that thought was, _…oh. Shit._

He knew that face.

It was considerably more cherubic than the last time he'd seen it, with wider eyes and more baby-fat and a pointed lack of the expression that haughtily proclaimed, 'I am a totally impassive enigma of a warlord and you have no hope of discovering what I am thinking right at this moment,' but it was too similar for it to be mere coincidence.

Jack was looking right at a three-year-old Chase Young, wasn't he?

Shelving the question of why the hell Guan would've wanted to come back to when Chase was a toddler (which only got more disturbing the more he thought about it), Jack figured he should deal with the more pressing issue of said toddler staring at him looking startled and upset and confused.

"Hey," he said gently, awkwardly as he moved a little closer. "Are you okay?"

The miniature Chase—_the Chaseling,_ Jack decided to call him for now— didn't answer him, but he did tense up pretty fiercely. Apparently, his parents hadn't taught him not to play around hazardous hills, but they _had_ managed to impart Stranger Danger.

Great.

"I'm not…I won't hurt you," Jack tried lamely, "just…you're hurt already, aren't you?"

Jack watched his eyes flicker to his scraped knee. Clutching it closer to himself, the Chaseling bit his lip and silently pouted up at him.

…Jack thought he might've given himself diabetes just _thinking_ that sentence.

Trying for a smile that he hoped in no way looked violent or otherwise pedophilic, he knelt down to be more on the kid's level. "Hey, it's fine. That stuff happens. See?" He held his hand out palm up, showing off the small wound. "I hurt myself a little, too."

The Chaseling craned his neck to see, but pointedly did not scoot any closer. That was fine. Kids were entitled to a bit of wariness around strange men two decades their senior and Jack saw no reason to get offended by it.

"I was just about to take care of it," he tried, sitting all the way down and reaching into his jacket. "Maybe you can watch me fix mine and then I can fix yours?"

Jack may have smirked a little as the Chaseling chose to maintain his silence, but his face was already starting to ease out of its pout, looking more curious than wary.

Now that he actually had need of it, Jack had no trouble remembering where the antiseptic wipes were and he fished out a packet on the first try. He keenly felt the kid's eyes on him as he tore it open with his teeth and used the damp sheet to clean the dried blood from the cut.

It stung, of course, but Jack very purposefully did not wince. The last thing he needed was to make the kid gun-shy and then have that little scrape of his get infected or something.

Balling up the wipe and stowing it in a different pocket, Jack brought out the spray-on bandaid next.

There was a story behind that—one that Jack planned on telling to absolutely no one in any detail, but it involved an unreasonable number of adhesive bandaids at once and the fact that his skin was already _way_ too sensitive for his own good without bits of latex-y fabric trying to peel it off in strips.

Ultimately, the whimpering alone had been so deeply humiliating that Jack had made a solemn vow to never fuck around with adhesive bandaids again. He lived in the 2000s, anyway, so he was well within his rights (and probably even a little obligated!) to make use of advances in medical technology and what could be more futuristic and convenient than painless, spray-on bandaids?

The spray-on kind of bandaid was obviously better at impressing Chaselings, too, because the wide-eyed look on the kid's face as the mist sprayed out onto Jack's palm could really only be called _wonder._

Jack blew on the wet spot a moment or two before touching it lightly with his thumb to be sure it had dried. Then he offered it back out to the Chaseling.

"It's all better now," he said. "Didn't even hurt."

Jack almost felt like he was trying to make friends with a shy woodland creature as he held his hand perfectly still for the kid's inspection. The Chaseling actually leaned forward this time and reached out to touch, his tiny fingertips brushing against the unfamiliar texture on Jack's palm.

"Awesome, right?" Jack had to physically hold back a snicker at the small Chase's reverent nod, reminding himself that if Chase was _this_ young, it would be more than a millennium before that word gained its modern connotation—for now, it literally just meant 'inspiring awe.' "Do you want me to help you with yours now?"

The boy hesitated a moment, probably remembering whatever he'd been told about strangers, but he eventually nodded again, looking resolved.

Jack wondered if it were possible to get double-diabetes, because a _resolved-looking three-year-old,_ Jesus Christ.

Now that he had permission, though, Jack wrapped his hand around one bony little shin to hold Chase's leg. Finding another antiseptic wipe, he went about cleaning the dirt and gravel from the scrape.

Chase hissed at the sting and automatically jerked back, but Jack's grip held steady. He would willingly admit that he wasn't stronger than a lot of things, but he _was_ stronger than a freaking toddler, thank you very much.

"Yeah, it stings a little," he said out loud. "Don't worry, it doesn't last long."

The Chaseling had the audacity to look vaguely betrayed that Jack hadn't warned him, but he nonetheless proved himself to be the kid that grew up into one of the toughest fuckers Jack had ever met by then just stoically enduring the disinfecting.

Jack experienced a confusing moment of pride in him for that, confusing because, _He's not even my kid! What the hell?_

Jack shook it off and sprayed on the liquid bandaid (which Jack knew for a fact didn't hurt!) before leaning in to blow it dry a couple seconds quicker.

Satisfied, Jack sat back on his heels and stowed his medical supplies back in his coat. "There," he proclaimed. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

The kid blinked at his knee, running his fingers over the protective coating. His expression wavered between amazement and relief for awhile before settling on pure glee and the thrilled grin he gave Jack was almost blinding in its intensity.

Hard to believe that the Heylin prince of darkness had ever been capable of such an innocent smile, but Jack supposed everyone had to start _somewhere._

He reflexively smiled back, but that totally guileless grin was a reminder to Jack—if just by sheer contrast—that the Chaseling _actually was_ Chase Young, and would someday grow up to be him.

The very same Chase Young who was a totally gorgeous master of evil, who'd years ago triggered Jack's questioning of his own sexuality, and who even now, still regularly forced him to retreat to his bunk with his unfair displays of masculine grace and power.

And he was currently a toddler with a skinned knee and a happy-go-lucky smile.

Jesus, talk about awkward. Jack barely knew what to say to the sexy, cool, and confident Chase of his time and now that he was in the situation, he was pretty sure he had even _less_ idea what to talk about with the fun-sized version.

So, yeah: _awkward._

Thankfully, sheer lucky happenstance saved him from having to hold a conversation with the kid. A voice suddenly called out in the otherwise quiet of the still afternoon, making Chase's head swing around in what could only be recognition.

"Chenglei!"

Jack sprung back to his feet and the Chaseling— Chenglei?—followed suit with a confused look at him.

Jack didn't address it. Instead, he gave a clumsy pat to the boy's dark-haired head and an equally clumsy, "You did good, kid, very brave," before walking off in the opposite direction of the voice as quickly as his legs would carry him.

He had no idea what the punishment for suspected pedophiles was in this day and age, but he was willing to bet it was _unpleasant._ No matter who was coming, it probably wouldn't do to be caught alone with a kid that young and Jack wasn't about to sit around when there was the entirely likely possibility of getting busted for shit he didn't (would fucking _never,_ he's evil, not _sick_) do.

Of course, when he'd made it a respectable distance away, Jack couldn't resist a backwards glance.

Another boy was scurrying up to meet Cha—_Chenglei,_ with still no adults in sight, about the same size and probably the same age. His golden complexion and his bald head put Jack strongly in mind of Omi, but his expression, relief thickly covered by an easygoing grin reminded him a little more of…

Holy shit.

_Grand Master Dashi._ Chase Young had been _childhood friends_ with Grand Master Dashi?!

_Wow,_ Jack thought, _you think you qualify as a guy's number one fan…_

Nonetheless, he kept right on walking until he was sure he was out of sight as something foreboding began to dawn on him.

He was still here.

In spite of the fact that he'd now interacted with the younger Chase, presumably done something to alter the future—or maybe ensured that the future _wasn't_ altered? Time travel was way too goddamn complicated, even for a literal genius like Jack.

Anyway, nothing was happening and Jack was still here, somewhere in…shit, probably about 4th century China, Chase was no spring chicken, and there was absolutely no magical tingly whatever happening to bring him back to his own time.

Jack slowed to a stop and breathed in silence for a few long moments before swearing loudly enough to startle a nearby, weird-looking bird.

Very quickly, though, he reined himself back in to a state of relative calm. Getting pissed off (however extremely fucking appropriate it was) wouldn't help anything. As much as he'd dearly love to go find Guan and beat the snot out of him for apparently stranding him here, Guan wouldn't even be Guan yet; he was probably barely out of diapers and maybe hitting kids wasn't as bad as touching them, but Jack was entirely sure that neither of those things were him.

Clearly, it was time for Jack to make another solemn vow to himself, instead.

Deciding very _firmly_ to stay calm and refrain from totally losing his shit until tomorrow morning at the earliest, Jack devised himself a game plan.

A passing glance at the sky where the sun was beginning to set was enough to tell him that night was falling. The current time period being approximately forever before the advent of electricity, the whole day was basically over. In another hour or so, which would probably be how long it would take Jack to locate civilization, everybody who might conceivably offer food and shelter to a weird-looking stranger would be asleep.

So Jack would be roughing it tonight. Awesome.

He briefly spared a thought to building himself some kind of shelter, but even with a flashlight (which he had, his pockets were _useful,_ okay?), it would be unnecessarily difficult trying to throw something together at night. The same held true for any attempts at foraging for food and water.

Jack sighed and found the nicest looking spot of the clearing he was standing in and sat down. Hungry and with a bit of trial and error, he found a granola bar inside his coat and munched on it awhile.

Naturally, he was hardly tired—he'd pretty much just woken up, after all—but boredom was a powerful motivator for drowsiness.

Upon finishing the granola bar, Jack laid back in the grass and watched the stars in the amazingly clear night sky until he eventually dozed off.

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

**A/N: The first chapter, in which Jack realizes his situation.**

**I say it's the first chapter out of twenty-four because based on what I have planned, there _should_ be twenty-four chapters. However, being that much of this fic is not yet written, that number may be subject to change! XD**

**Thanks for reading, hope you liked it! :D**


	3. Chapter 2

**The Thing About Bad Pennies**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.**

**Warnings: Language, homosexuality, (eventual) sexual situations, etc.**

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

Jack blinked and was more than a little disoriented to find himself fully upright beside a creek in broad daylight, with a tingling sensation fading out of his spine.

This was, indeed, disorienting because Jack physically could not have slept for more than an hour or two and he had never sleepwalked in his life, but there was Xiaolin magic lingering in his bones and morning had apparently come and taken him somewhere decidedly different from where he'd fallen asleep.

"What the fuck _now_?" he couldn't help but blurt out.

There was a subtle rustle of cloth at that, and Jack knew before he even looked that he had attracted someone's attention.

He turned to see a lone figure sitting beside the creek, small and appearing even smaller with his knees pulled up to his chest in the universal pose of contemplative angst. The boy was looking at Jack with suspicion and…oh.

Even twisted in wariness, rounded a little less with baby fat than the three-year-old version, that face was unmistakably Chase's…or rather, Chenglei's.

Jack, legitimately a genius, didn't need more than the second it took to recognize the kid to piece together what had just happened to him: he'd jumped forward in time.

_Nowhere near far enough,_ Jack thought wryly, because Chenglei was still pretty little and probably hadn't even hit puberty yet, but Jack figured a guy in his position kind of had to take what he could get.

Since Chenglei was still glaring at him, looking prepared to sprint the hell out of there at any wrong move on Jack's part, Jack raised his hands and once again adopted the look that (he hoped) conveyed a total lack of ill intentions on his part.

"Hey," he said, edging a little closer, "I'm not gonna do anything, just…is it okay if I sit here?"

Chenglei just continued watching him silently, long enough that Jack almost started to wonder if the kid might actually be mute or deaf.

But then, he spoke. "You can sit." Alright, not very much, but it was _something,_ and more importantly, it was the first voice besides his own that Jack had heard in…some unknowable period. (Seriously, fucking time travel.)

Still, it was amazing the way something as little as deprivation could break down social barriers, totally bypassing the awkward hesitation caused by things as trivial as, 'what the hell do you even _say_ to a mini-Chase Young?'

Now undaunted by that question, Jack came forward to a respectable distance from the kid and sat down next to the creek. Turning to him with a grin, he cheerfully declared, "I'm Jack, by the way."

As expected, the boy took that as his cue to reciprocate the introduction. "My name is Chenglei," he said simply, and even as a child, it looked like Chase was the kind of guy who liked to be concise; no words wasted, unlike Jack who was, admittedly, prone to babbling.

Both these facts were proved immediately as Jack replied, "Great, it's good to meet you, Chenglei. Y'know, that's a good name, it really suits you," and unhesitatingly, Chenglei cut him off with a direct question.

"Why are you following me?"

Jack…blinked. "What?"

Chenglei gave him the suspicious look again, like he was trying to figure out precisely how full of shit Jack was. Slowly, he confessed, "I remember you…from before."

Jack didn't follow until the boy made a vague gesture to his knee; scraped and raw the last time Jack had seen it, and now entirely healed without so much as a scar.

"Oh! _Before,_" he realized with a wince. If ever there was a time to curse the strikingly unique looks that made Jack so very unforgettable, it was now. In retrospect, it was definitely too much to hope for that he was nondescript enough to have faded from somebody's memory, even a three-year-old's.

"You were there," said Chenglei, "and now you're here. Why?"

If Jack was cursing his looks, he was thanking all the evil deities for his natural ability to think on his feet because he didn't trip over a single word as he answered, "Well…if you must know," pausing to lean in and conspiratorially whisper, "I'm your guardian spirit."

It was one of the hardest things Jack had ever done to _not_ laugh at the hugely wide-eyed look Chenglei gave him. "Really?"

"Yeah," Jack said, glossing over the _before_ and the _now_ in his head before coming up with a plausible theory. "See, I'm duty-bound to show up whenever you really need some help. Like back then, when you were hurt and nobody else was around."

Of course, Jack himself had no way to confirm _or_ deny this, but as far as off-the-cuff theories about Xiaolin time-travel spells went, it seemed as good as any other.

After all, somebody Xiaolin seeking to change the past without the Sands of Time, like Guan, would never do it by using honest coercion. That'd be too Heylin. Instead, he'd probably do it by continually showing up in somebody's hour of need and being aggressively helpful, ensuring that the person in question would never come into circumstances that would make joining the Heylin their best option.

It looked benevolent enough on the surface, but Jack saw deeper—if Guan _had_ been the one to come back like he was supposed to, it could easily end up creating a deeply subconscious sense of gratitude towards the Master Monk in the back of Chenglei's impressionable little mind, one that obviously (judging by Chase's future relationship with Guan) hadn't been there originally.

If that happened, Chenglei would be a lot more conflicted when the moment of his Big Choice came; might hesitate a little more to defy the Xiaolin and everything his childhood savior stood for, and perhaps might not have been able to go through with it at all, no matter how much he wanted to.

Inject an unconscious feeling of debt into a kid's head and just wait for him to grow up and settle for a life he didn't want because of it: easy as that, no dirty hands necessary.

_The sheer hypocrisy of 'good guys' sometimes, I swear,_ Jack thought, just barely refraining from shaking his head.

That kind of convoluted, 'road to hell' brainwashing was definitely _not_ how Jack was gonna play this. He probably _had_ to help Chenglei with…whatever kid-problems he was dealing with, or else he wouldn't be able to take another jump through time, but that didn't mean he had to be leading about it. Jack could totally stay aloof enough to help and still let Chenglei make his own damn decisions in life!

…Probably. Not like Jack had much choice but to try, either way.

"I didn't mean to scare you that I was following you earlier," he said, apologetically as he could manage. "It's just, you're my charge, so I _have_ to follow you, but I promise not to come out of nowhere unless you really need me. Okay?"

A modern kid would've been screaming for police or something by now, but this was roughly the fourth century and superstitions were rampant everywhere, so Chenglei just gave him another once-over—lingering at his pale skin and sunset hair and vividly _red_ eyes— and nodded in acceptance of the fact that Jack was a spirit.

Maybe Jack should be thanking the evil deities for his bizarre looks, after all.

Still, with the whole 'guardian' lie established, Jack now had a perfect opener into the conversation.

"So," he asked, "what am I here for today?"

Chenglei stared at him.

"Well, I gotta be here for something," Jack elaborated. "I don't show up unless something's wrong."

Chenglei's frown was verging on a pout, and even though he was older now, it was no less painfully cute than it was at age three. "Nothing's wrong," he murmured.

Naturally, Jack was not convinced. "Really? You can't think of any reason I might be here?"

Tellingly, Chenglei's chin dropped to rest on his upraised knees and he avoided Jack's eyes. Jack decided to roll with the hint.

"You looked pretty sad earlier," he said casually. "You look kinda sad now, too."

Now, it was _definitely_ a pout, but the kid wasn't denying it.

He hunched forward, clutching his legs a little tighter to his chest and spent another long moment or two in silence.

Jack waited it out and sure enough, Chenglei spoke up again.

Quietly, partially muffled by his knees, he mumbled, "Dashi doesn't like me anymore."

Jack frowned. "Dashi?"

"My brother," the boy clarified.

It was a near thing, but Jack's jaw did _not_ drop. _They're motherfucking **brothers**?!_

Jack got a hold of himself as quickly as he was able, covering his surprise with a cool, "Why do you think he doesn't like you?"

Chenglei frowned back at him. "Because he doesn't."

"Yeah, okay," said Jack, "but why? Did he say that to you?" Because if he did, mini-Dashi was a _jerk._

Apparently, not quite that much of one, though, because Chenglei hesitated. "No… He didn't _say_ it, but…"

He trailed off again, so Jack prompted, "But what?"

"He's not _around_ anymore."

Jack tried to translate that terribly vague statement. "Did he go somewhere, or…?"

"No," Chenglei said, looking frustrated.

Jack was starting to know the feeling just trying to figure out the Chaseling's malfunction. Nobody'd ever told him that having a heart-to-heart with a little kid would be like pulling teeth.

"We're _twins,_" Chenglei emphasized eventually, like that was supposed to mean something by itself. Thankfully, Jack didn't have to ask him to explain this time and he continued on his own, "We're always _together_ and now we're just…not."

Okay, that at least gave Jack a ballpark. "So, he's not hanging out with you so much these days. Maybe his day-planner's full."

Naturally, Chenglei stared at him, totally baffled, and Jack was reminded to adapt his language for the era. "If he's not spending time with you, maybe he's spending it on something else. Do your parents have you guys doing chores?"

"Yes, but…" The boy hesitated, but the theory must not have held much merit for Chenglei because he discarded it almost immediately. "That's not it," he said with conviction. "Dashi doesn't even _do_ his chores."

_Lazy,_ Jack thought. _That sounds about right._

"Alright, so what _does_ he do, then?" Jack asked.

As it turned out, Chenglei's little face could make even ugly expressions moderately adorable: Jack had never seen a jealous scowl cuter than the one currently drifting across the boy's face.

But he knew without even having to ask why it was there.

"He goes off to play with the other village boys, doesn't he?"

Chenglei only nodded.

Rejection. Damn, did Jack know _that_ fucking awful feeling. Before he could stop himself, he muttered, "Asshat," under his breath.

Chenglei caught it anyway and stared at him again in a total lack of comprehension.

Jack very pointedly did not explain this time. "So, what," he went with instead, "your brother's just ditching you to be with his new friends?" The kid nodded again. "And what do you do?"

Chenglei's badly hidden flinch told Jack everything he needed to know.

"Kid," Jack proclaimed, "your brother is a…" He checked himself, moderated for his audience. "Your brother…is insensitive and inconsiderate."

It was only a little bit of a surprise for Jack to see yet another thing he knew unfortunately well—inexplicable family loyalty. "He's not," Chenglei said, immediately jumping to his brother's defense. "He's great! Dashi is amazing. That's why he has so many friends."

Jack knew better than to try and derail that kind of attachment. It just went too damn deep. As much as he knew his parents had made some terrible choices—and they had, they were pretty damn awful parents—Jack had never been able to truly condemn them. They were his _parents._

And Dashi was Chenglei's _brother._

This probably called for a different tack.

"I'm sure he is amazing," Jack conceded, not even with condescension because this kid's brother was going to grow up and become a _Grand Master_ and create the _Shen Gong Wu._ "What about you, though?"

"Me?" It was exceedingly obvious that no one had ever asked Chenglei this question before, but to his credit, he gave it his best consideration. "I'm…happy. That he's popular. It's good that everyone can see how amazing he is."

"Sure," said Jack. "And?"

"…and?" Chenglei echoed with clear confusion.

"And what else?" Jack wondered. "Nobody feels just one way about something. People have lots of feelings all at the same time, sometimes even when they don't make sense together. You can be happy that Dashi's got friends, _and…_"

Jack could actually _see_ the epiphany happening in Chenglei's head. It took him a little bit to say it, and when he did, it was cautious like he was expecting to be chastised, but he slowly admitted, "And…I'm mad that Dashi's friends made him forget about me."

Trying his utmost to radiate 'no judgment,' Jack nodded as encouragingly as he could.

Emboldened, Chenglei continued. "Our parents have to work in the field all day," he said, "so they don't have time to coddle us, and that was okay because me and Dashi had each other, but now…"

"He's got other friends and you've got no one?" Jack guessed.

"Exactly!" the boy exclaimed, clearly excited that Jack was _getting_ it, now. "And I can't go with them because I'm not…they don't like me, I'm not good enough, and maybe if I was, Dashi wouldn't have left in the first place."

There was an almost physical twinge in Jack's chest at that oh-so-familiar 'not good enough' and he wondered why he'd never realized before how much he and Chase had in common. It was easy to focus on the differences— Chase was powerful and gorgeous and skilled beyond belief and Jack was really…none of those things.

But the foundation Chase had apparently started with was shaping up to be eerily similar to Jack's own: abandonment issues, feelings of inadequacy, hadal-zone-low self-esteem…

If the next thing out of Chenglei's mouth was that he wanted to take over the world to prove everybody wrong, Jack was gonna _freak._

Jack wasn't sure if he was relieved or dismayed that instead, Chenglei looked up at him with eyes that would put a puppy to shame and asked, "Is that…_can_ you help me?"

Luckily, Jack himself had been in the kid's shoes many a time, so he had a pretty good idea of how to answer that.

Or at least a good idea of what he wished somebody'd told him back then.

"I'm not really supposed to do this," he said magnanimously, glancing around like he was making sure they were alone. "But if you promise not to tell, I think I can let you in on another secret; something that might make your situation a little easier."

Chenglei's knees came away from his chest, folding under him as he sat up and leaned over to Jack. "I won't tell," he swore solemnly. "What is it?"

Jack leaned in, too, unable to keep the smirk off his face. "You," he said gravely, "have a _destiny._"

The kid's eyes went wide. "I do?"

"Sure," Jack shrugged. "Are you really that surprised? Your brother's not the only one who's amazing, y'know. You've got a whole grand future ahead of you."

Chenglei sat back in amazement. "I'm going to be amazing someday?"

"You're amazing _now,_" Jack corrected, "and you're only gonna get better."

Chenglei frowned, shaking his head. "I'm…I'm nothing special…"

"Oh, no?" Jack challenged, raising his eyebrows. "If that's true, how come you're the only one anywhere _near_ your tiny village who has a guardian spirit?"

"I am?"

Jack scoffed. "Yeah, you are, kid. Only the ones with _really_ great destinies get guardian spirits. Not even Dashi has one, but you do."

Being a child, and naturally kind of gullible like children are, Chenglei seemed to be buying it hook, line, and sinker.

"I'm really going to be that great?" he asked, excitement overtaking the doubt in his tone. "Better than Dashi?"

"_Much_ better than Dashi," Jack agreed. Playfully, he nudged the boy with his elbow. "How do you think you got your name? It's not just coincidence that it means 'become great,' kid—that's your destiny."

Chenglei was grinning broadly, not as wholly sweet and innocent as his three-year-old self was capable of, but the kind of unadulterated enthusiasm that would be more than a little disturbing for the fully-adult Chase Young.

"Basically," Jack said airily, "what I'm trying to say is, don't let those dumb kids get to you, and don't let it bug you so much if even your brother doesn't feel like making time for you. They just can't see how awesome you're going to be and don't know any better yet."

Chenglei nodded with a regal gravity betrayed only by the smile on his face. "I can't hold that against them. They'll see the truth later." His expression faltered a second and he turned to Jack, "They _will_ see, won't they?"

"Of course they will," Jack happily agreed, "so you don't need to get anxious that nobody's paying attention to you just yet. They will, soon enough."

Chenglei sprung to his feet, like he couldn't bear to sit still a second longer. "I have a destiny!" he laughed. "I'm going to be great!"

Jack remained seated beside the creek, angling his head to meet Chenglei's eyes. "You're damn right you are," he said firmly. "Now, quit your moping around here and go forth and conquer or something."

Chenglei bounced on the balls of his little feet and was off running almost before Jack saw him move. As he scampered away—in the way that Jack had only seen kids manage when just shy of a caffeine or sugar overdose—he called back, "Thank you, Jack!" and was gone.

Jack couldn't have held back his chuckle if he'd been paid to. To himself, he muttered, "Kid's polite, at least, I'll give him that."

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. That…had gone well. He thought.

He'd managed to cheer Chenglei up (obviously), and as far as Jack could tell, he'd done it without being manipulative and leading.

He worried for a second that what he'd said about the kid's destiny had been a little too on the nose, but he shrugged it off quick enough. He'd been pretty damn vague about the whole 'become great' thing and hadn't steered the boy towards becoming a great good _or_ evil.

As long as Jack stayed detached from that part, it would be totally up to Chenglei's own innate leanings as to which category he fell into.

From what he'd heard today, though, he wasn't all that concerned that Chenglei might go on to pick the Xiaolin.

_Childhood neglect and feeling like nobody thinks you're good enough: that describes, what, three-fourths of the Heylin?_ Jack shook his head. And Jesus, even at…five? Six? Chase was already spouting some serious super-villain shit. _'They'll all see'? I'm not even sure Guan would've had a chance here, this kid is headed **Dark Side**._

If he didn't know the man this kid was going to grow up to be—the Chase Young who was so clearly comfortable being evil and excelled at it like no one except maybe Hannibal Bean—Jack might've felt vaguely, abstractly guilty for doing absolutely nothing to stop it.

As it was…nope, not even a shred of guilt.

Jack shrugged it off and got to his feet, stretching briefly while he contemplated his situation of Annoying Time Travel Fuckery.

What he'd told Chenglei about the where and when he was showing up was probably true and it was also the best theory Jack could come up with on the two examples he'd gotten so far.

Kid gets a boo-boo that could get infected and has nobody around to help with it? Jack shows up. Kid's struggling with abandonment and other such blows to his self-esteem? Send in the expert; Jack Spicer, ladies and gentlemen. There was only the one common thread between those, and Jack's inner scientist winced to even _call_ it a theory, but his practical side knew it was the best he was going to get until he Time Jumped again and gathered some more data.

Speaking of, the Time Jumps themselves were calling for a theory because Jack still had no concrete idea of when and why they happened.

This crappy spell was nothing like Quantum Leap: Jack wasn't Jumping immediately after he interacted with Chase's younger self and (presumably) did what he was supposed to do, but…maybe the spell wasn't strong enough for that?

That could make sense. The Sands of Time was one of the most powerful Shen Gong Wu in existence, which stood to reason that it ran on some seriously powerful Xiaolin magic but Dashi had been kinda renowned as a prodigy, hadn't he?

Guan was good, too, but he was no _Grand Master._ It was totally possible that he just didn't have enough juice to kick-start an _active_ time-travel spell and the one Jack had gotten caught up in was a _passive_ spell.

Come to think of it, Jack had been asleep both times he'd Jumped.

…Alright, fine, he'd been more knocked out for that first one, but unconscious was unconscious! Jack had been hanging out with enough witches and sorcerers of black and white magic alike to have picked up that the unconscious mind—especially in dreamstates—had a lot of mystic potential.

Possibly relevant here was the fact that Jack was used to having extremely vivid dreams, and yet these last two times, there'd been nothing but a blank. Just drifting off and then suddenly being awake in another freaking time period.

_Alright,_ Jack thought slowly, _so, whenever I go to sleep after doing something in the past, the spell…leeches off my brain-energy to shoot me forward to the next thing?_

As before, he had no way to know how right he was, or if he were even remotely in the neighborhood of correct. Knowing it wasn't the first time and would probably not be the last, Jack vigorously cussed Guan out in his head for not having sent him to the past with a warning or a piece of advice or a goddamn pamphlet or _something._

But once again, this was not a productive avenue, however cathartic it was.

What would be productive would be to find himself some food, because his stomach was starting to growl. Jack had never been able to sleep hungry and sleep was very much the goal here if he ever wanted to test that theory of his.

Unfortunately, Jack tended to only carry one emergency granola bar on him at a time, and he'd obviously exhausted _that_ particular resource. As he saw it, that left him with two options.

Option One would be to head in the direction Chenglei had run off to and try to mooch off some random village folk. That would likely be…problematic.

For one thing, a goth albino from the future would attract a lot of attention; too _much_ attention and inevitably, all the local kiddies would be drawn to see what all the fuss was about and there was no _way_ little Chenglei would be shrewd enough to pretend not to know Jack.

Out of context, that whole 'guardian spirit' thing sounded more than a little fishy and Jack had never been so concerned about being mistaken for a pedophile in his _life,_ but wow, being in a day and age where it was totally cool to publicly execute people on minimal evidence really raised the stakes on that particular misconception.

So, Chenglei's village was out. That left Option Two.

Jack had to forage in the goddamn wilderness for nuts and berries and shit.

He spared a glance to the creek he was standing besides, spying a shimmer of scales beneath the surface and considered a more palatable fish-dinner instead…

For about three seconds.

Jack _knew_ he wouldn't be able to catch a fish by hand and trying would only leave him cold, wet, and frustrated beyond belief, and then it'd be hours before he managed to get any sleep. Plus, if he somehow defied all odds and caught one, then he'd have to figure out how to scale it and gut it and cook it, and that last part would probably necessitate making a fire, and goddammit, that was just too much trouble for what would (hopefully) be a brief stay here.

Nuts and berries, it was.

Sighing the sigh of the greatly put upon, Jack trudged off in search of suitable plants, once more giving thanks to the various gods of evil that he'd at least paid attention to the textbook part of that wilderness survival class his mom forced him into, one of many he'd been pressured to take shortly after he dropped out of the regular schooling system.

Unlike the class itself, where the teacher had been perky early enough in the morning to warrant a stabbing and his classmates had been young adults who patronized the hell out of the 'adorable little boy who wanted to go camping with mommy,' the book had been informative. Jack certainly remembered enough to be able to figure out what would be safe to eat and what wouldn't be.

Still, that didn't mean he had to like it and like the spoiled trust-fund kid with delusions of grandeur he gladly admitted he was, Jack positively resented having to _forage_ down to his bones.

He huffed out another sigh and hoped an utterly futile hope— that the Chase of his future would someday appreciate the absolute _bullshit_ Jack was suffering through for his sake.

**-.-.-.-.-.-**

**A/N: The second chapter! I'm aiming to do all future posting for this story in threes, so this concludes the current round.**

**Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it! :D**


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